Downfall
by claireska
Summary: After Opie passed away, Jax begins to go off the deep end, bringing his old lady into crimes and deals that she doesn't want to be introduced to. This story goes into their past and why she will always remain by his side, even if his decisions take her to the grave. Jax/OC
1. Chapter 1

Not many people can say, or even describe, what it's like to put a bullet through someones head. You've probably seen it in a movie, or a television show where the gun's pointed at someone's frontal lobe, finger shaking nervously against the trigger, before the camera's focus aims to the wall behind the begging victim, and then you hear the resounding bang and see corn syrup explode on the wall.

I, myself, had never seen anyone get shot in the head, only been described it by an extremely drunk ex-boyfriend outside of a bar after drinking too much tequila. He, like many people I know, had to do such an act to get respect from a club. Unfortunately for him, he didn't even turn into a prospect and his step-father was president of the damned thing.

Anyways, from the description he gave and the lost look in his eyes, it scared the living hell out of me, to be honest. I remember him sitting against the wall, his face relaxed from the rage he just expressed, but his eyes dead from any emotion. I was sure he was replaying it in his head, reminiscing the cold steel of the gun in his hand, his mind going back and forth on if this was the right decision, and then the decision to pull the trigger and hearing the man's skull explode before a mist of blood-shot from the back of his head. After this event from the night, the rest of the evening he was a completely different person. He'd start crying, then go into a fit of rage quicker than a light could be switched on and off. If i wasn't used to his psychotic episodes, any other person would've walked away like a sane person.

And it's strange, how after the years that had passed since then, that's the only thing I can think about as I hold this revolver in my thin hands, my pointer finger lightly playing against the trigger, sliding up and down on the small piece of metal. A man I didn't know was kneeling before me, his back facing me, a black potato sack over his head, and was shaking violently. I could hear him hiccuping from skipping so many breaths, his nose sniffling with fear. I was surprised he wasn't pleading for his own life, but maybe Tig had already said something to him.

I could feel Jax's stare in the back of my skull. If he wasn't here, maybe I'd put down the gun and walk away from the situation, but he was here, watching, noting.

"We've come to far for you to back down now, sweetcheeks," Jax stated. I could hear him inhale cigarette smoke and slowly exhale.

Leaves and sticks crunched from the weight of his boots behind me, his footsteps coming closer, before I could feel the heat of his chest against my back, even through my leather jacket. His breath hit my neck and I immediately got shivers up my spine, having to close my eyes and inhale quickly so my blood didn't rush into my brain.

That's the effect Jax Teller had on me. It was always like this since I could even develop attraction toward's the opposite sex. He had an effect on me that no other drug could.

I felt his hands softly rest on my shoulders before slowly sliding down my arms, his fingers following along every crevice on my leather, making sure I could feel his touch until his hands finally covered my own. He didn't grasp firmly over my grip, just relaxed his hands against mine.

He nuzzled his face into the crevice of my neck before resting his chin on my shoulder, kissing my jaw line softly before staring straight ahead like I was at the man.

"You can do this, baby," he cooed. "Pull the trigger." Even though I heard his words, I was hoping maybe he'd take the gun and just do it himself. I've shot people before but nothing that would kill them. Just a quick shot in the shoulder or knee cap. Jax usually did the dirty work. His "old lady" was supposed to stay at home and do household duties. But then, Opie died. And Jax's world went upside down.

"Pull the trigger," he repeated, his voice more stern than before. I could feel his body heat up with anger. "Do it for Opie, baby. C'mon." I didn't even flinch. I knew his anger was boiling inside his chest, his patience wearing extremely thin. "Claire, pull the trigger!" he exclaimed. When the gun still didnt' go off, he decided to raise his voice higher. "Pull the fucking trigger!" I closed my eyes and pulled the thin piece of metal back. I could feel the gun recoil and, by the time I opened my eyes, his body was already on the ground, lifeless and limp. I could feel Jax's grin against my shoulder before I quickly pushed him away, dropped the gun, and bent over, releasing my digested dinner into the soil.

Jax Teller was my poison, my antivenom, my savior, my devil, my happiness, and my despair.

All the while, as I continued to empty my stomach, Jax was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

The drink was cool against my fingers, my eyes completely focused on the dark liquid that filled up the glass mug. I wrapped my fingers around the mug, the glass shaking in my hand from my nerves bouncing around psychotically underneath my skin.

I slowly took a sip, the vodka and tea... more like a vodka with a plash of tea, causing my taste buds to singe. Just as I began to pull the drink back, the front door of our house opened and calmly closed. I didn't even hear the bike pull in, which was strange for myself. I usually had my senses pretty alert, but today I just had too much on my mind and soul.

I slowly raised my eyes from the table as Jax entered the kitchen. Once he read my eyes, he quickly averted his attention elsewhere, obviously feeling regret for what he convinced me to do. I watched as he walked over to the coffee machine, planting his hands against the kitchen counter, and leaned forward, his back arching and his shoulders hunched. His back rose and fell with a deep breath as he took a deep, vocal sigh. I bit my lip and paid attention to my drink again. I wasn't sure if I cared for what he said, all I knew was that sleeping was all I really cared for. At least then, I wouldn't remember seeing all that blood.

"I don't know what I can say to take all that back," he started over his shoulder, his eyes avoiding me completely. I just let my fingers grasp the glass again and took another swig. "I wasn't in the right state of mind. I don't know what took over but...". I just laughed. I'm not sure why or for what, but I found his explanation completely idiotic. And, because of his response, I could already feel the temperature in the room rise from his rage. I finished my drank and stood, not even taking the mug with me.

Once I looked up at him, I could feel my face beginning to burn from his anger. I usually would cower back, not really scared of his anger but scared of the pieces I'd have to pick up from both my emotions and the house. Our downfall was our rage.

"That's all you can say?" I asked, raising my arms and slamming them back at my sides. "Jax, do you even realize what the fuck you had me do today?!" My voice was raising and I expected him to at least turn to face me but instead he turned his attention to the tiled counter, his breathing slowing down. His embarrassment and humiliation, his lack of response, just made my anger boil even hotter.

"I shot a man... no, wait. I fucking killed a man today! Blew his fucking brains out, Jax!" I yelled. He yet again didn't respond, didn't even look at me. I quickly turned and grabbed the mug before pulling my arm back and throwing it against the wall past his head. He just flinched. I took a few steps up to him, hovering over his shoulder. I was shaking with so much anger. The image of grabbing the back of his neck and slamming his forehead against the counter flashed quickly into my head. The urge was more than there.

I leaned forward, making sure not to touch him, but I made sure he could feel my breath against his ear. "Opie is gone, Jax." His head snapped up, his breathing becoming more frequent and rushed. "No one can bring him back. Not you, not me, not the club, and definitely not the people you kill. The quicker you realize that," I stopped quickly, grabbing my wedding ring and pulling it off my finger, throwing it carelessly in front of him, "the quicker you get your wife back."

I have never once turned my back on Jax, never once threatened our marriage, or our relationship. I never threatened to leave him, hurt him, or betray him. I never even threatened to leave his side. But his life was starting to spiral down and the reason for everything I'm doing is for his safety; not mine. When it came to him, my life didn't matter. His did. If I lost Jax, I'd sure as hell lose everything. If I stayed, he would continue to pull this crazy shit like he did tonight. But, if I left, maybe it'd be a wake up call... maybe. Fuck, hopefully. Before I knew it, I was already in a motel bed, my hands behind my head, searching the ceiling frantically as if it would tell me if this was the right decision or if I really just let the beast out from its cage.

* * *

_"So, what is a pretty lady like you doing here?" a raspy, masculine voice cooed in my ear. I looked away from the sithe bearing reaper etched into the wall, with its reaper facial features smiling back at mine. Yet, looking away was probably the best thing I would've done. _

_They say eyes are a path to the soul. At least, that's what my eye doctor's used to tell me, along with some philosophical junkies on the side who thought they could read who you were just by looking into your eyes. I really didn't believe it that much. I mean, hey, you could easily tell when someone was lying but seeing their soul? That's just impossible and completely stupid. Actually, it was more like some fairy tale bullshit like meeting your "other half" or your soul mate. _

_But the blue orbs I connected with caught me dead. I've never been star struck or even knocked out dead from a punch, but I knew what it felt like to get a good one to the stomach and just those eyes blew my breath away. Coming from my history, you would never in a million years hear those four words escape even a thought of mine. And the fact I couldn't even process words to fly past my tongue was just completely horrifying. Did I believe in love at first sight? Fuck no. But this was something close to it. _

_I quickly glanced away from him to raise my drink and take a sip. It was all I could do if I couldn't even process a thought aside from his eyes. And once I glanced back, it just made the situation worse._

_He had this smirk tugging on his pursed lips, hiding behind a mustache and goatee. His short, blonde hair was slightly messy, but nothing horrible. Past his face, I didn't even bother looking at or I'd be silly puddy on the floor. _

_"You alright?" he asked, the crows feet in the corners of his eyes appearing. It wasn't the type of crows feet that come with age, but more like experience. I just nodded in response, completely terrified that if I opened my mouth, incoherent gibberish would just escape my lips. He raised his brows and actually flashed his teeth, seeming kind of entertained at how I was reacting. He raised his forearm that was resting on the counter and put it before me, palm open. Automatically, my hand took his and he gave me a firm shake. "My name's Jax." _

_"Claire," I managed to garble out as I took note that our hands lingered on each other longer than they should've. His lips stretched back, giving me a full blown smile as our hands retracted. He swiveled the bar stool to face forward, his eyes dancing along the bar wall as his lips relaxed, but still revealing a smile. _

_"So, you never answered my question. What is a pretty lady like you doing here?" He looked over at me over his arm, his smile turning into a playful smirk. I took another sip of my drink, hoping it'd help me speak fluent English._

_"Why do you ask?" He glanced past me before catching my attention again. _

_"Well, you don't look like a short mini skirt kinda girl, nor a biker slut, nor a biker anything. And I've definitely never seen you before so you're definitely an out-of-towner," he answered. I smirked slightly, my brain starting to kick in. I leaned a little closer to him, making sure to get slightly close to his ear._

_"You forgot about being someone's old lady," I whispered. I leaned back, smiling at his shocked response. His eyes quickly began to dart back and worth, looking for the man that claimed me, but he wasn't here. "Don't worry, I'm not an old lady anymore. You got nothin' to worry about." He scoffed._

_"I wasn't worryin' 'bout nothin'. Just was lookin' for the guy who's ass I had to kick outside so I could get your number."_

_And this, ladies and gentlemen, was the moment I believed someone could crumble my hard ass interior._


End file.
